Viscount Kedren, the commander of the infantry of the Artrode 6th Corps, was in utter misery.
While he wasn't personally fighting, the constant marching was exhausting enough.
"Marching is the hallmark of infantry," or so they said. His troops had to keep walking endlessly, with no breaks in sight.
"Move faster! We need to secure the next location!"
The soldiers hurriedly followed orders, not knowing why or where they were going.
Such decisions were left to the higher-ups, who simply passed down commands.
The soldiers, exhausted and muttering among themselves, grumbled.
"Ugh, this is insane."
"Are we even at war?"
"Why are we just going back and forth?"
Even these so-called elite troops had never experienced such grueling marches. They hadn't even fought a proper battle during this time.
All they did was hide, wait, or dig traps that never got used.
They called it "tactical maneuvering," but if the soldiers could understand it, they wouldn't just be soldiers.
Though dissatisfied, they had no choice but to follow orders and march tirelessly behind the 6th Corps.
Viscount Kedren wiped the sweat from his brow as he studied the map.
"Well, this time should be better."
Their task was to establish a fortification at their destination. Once built, their job was simply to defend it.
While they were only meant to hold off the enemy and buy time, at least it was a meaningful mission.
"Move quickly!"
Although the enemy forces had dwindled, there was no telling when or where they might reappear. As a smaller infantry unit, they needed to move as quickly as possible.
Just as they were marching diligently, a plume of dust rose in the distance behind them.
A sharp-eyed soldier at the rear noticed it first.
"Huh? Wait…?"
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
The faint rumbling of the ground grew louder as a mounted force appeared on the horizon. The soldier squinted, his face twisting in horror.
"Shit, they're not ours."
It was clear at a glance—they were the enemy. They had been tracked.
The soldier shouted at the top of his lungs.
"Enemies! The enemy is here!"
Viscount Kedren, startled, snapped his head around.
"What? Why? That's impossible!"
They had information about the enemy's movements. The battlefield they had left was far behind them.
Moreover, they had taken a roundabout route to avoid detection.
How had the enemy found and pursued them so quickly?
"Form defensive positions! Now! Hold them off!"
The soldiers, elite and experienced, swiftly formed ranks and leveled their spears. Archers stood ready behind them.
It was a formation specifically designed to counter cavalry charges.
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
The soldiers crouched low. All they needed to do was withstand the first charge with minimal casualties. After that, victory was possible.
They had faced similar scenarios many times before.
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
The soldiers in the frontlines gripped their shields tightly, their hearts pounding as if they would burst.
The first collision was always the most devastating in a cavalry charge. Facing it head-on was nerve-wracking.
Still, they didn't lose their resolve. They trusted their experience and believed they could survive.
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
But as the mounted force approached, their speed began to decrease. The soldiers furrowed their brows in confusion.
They should be accelerating, but why were they slowing down?
Only the man at the front of the enemy formation maintained his speed, charging ahead alone.
Seeing this, the lower-ranking officers shouted to rally their troops.
"The enemy is slowing down!"
"We can hold them off!"
"It's just one man! Don't fire the arrows yet!"
This seemed like a good thing. A slower charge meant less impact and more susceptibility to their arrows.
The soldiers felt a surge of confidence.
It was just one man. Even if he was a superhuman, their formation wouldn't crumble so easily.
At the head of the mounted force, Yulian gripped the reins tightly as he neared the enemy.
Drum, drum, drum.
His horse veered slightly to the side, bringing him to a halt. From there, he positioned himself to face the enemy formation from the flank.
He slowly raised his sword.
The Artrode soldiers couldn't help but admire the sight. It was an almost picturesque moment. They couldn't understand why he had stopped or why he was raising his sword like that.
'What the hell? Why's he acting all dramatic?'
'Is he trying to negotiate surrender?'
'Looks like it, considering they slowed down.'
They began speculating among themselves.
Yulian's sword gently traced an arc before slicing downward.
And in that instant—
Crack!
The ground split in a straight line. Along the path of the sword's swing, the bodies of the soldiers were cleaved in half.
It was as if a massive invisible blade had sliced through the center of the formation.
The soldiers barely had time to process what had happened. Those who missed the moment of impact stood frozen, their eyes wide in disbelief.
Only after a few seconds did the realization sink in. The horrific scene sent them into a frenzy.
"Ahhh!"
"What is this?!"
"How is this happening?!"
All Yulian had done was swing his sword once from a distance. Yet the formation was split apart entirely.
Every soldier standing along the path of the strike was dead, their bodies severed.
The remaining soldiers instinctively stepped aside.
The perfectly straight line carved into the ground, along with the bisected corpses of their comrades, left no doubt that this was real.
Faced with the incomprehensible, their courage evaporated. Any semblance of resolve vanished completely.
Clop, clop.
Yulian's horse moved forward at a slow pace. In the oppressive silence, he rode straight through the split formation.
Not a single soldier dared to attack. They could only watch as he passed through the path of death he had carved.
They were like prey frozen before a predator, utterly paralyzed.
Clop, clop.
Even as Yulian rode into the heart of their formation, the soldiers didn't move. Instead, they retreated further, instinctively knowing they couldn't approach him.
At the very rear, Viscount Kedren stammered.
"Wh-what are you doing? Attack him! Hurry…"
But even he couldn't finish his sentence. His mind was blank with terror.
Was this even possible? Was this truly the power of a human?
It was only natural for them to be unable to comprehend what had happened.
Yulian had grown even stronger. His battles with Hellnik and Leonard had granted him profound insights.
As Yulian's power grew, the greater the disparity between him and his opponents, the more devastating his attacks became.
Clop.
Before Kedren realized it, Yulian was standing before him. With a calm motion, Yulian swung his sword.
Slice.
Thud.
Viscount Kedren's head fell to the ground as naturally as if it had always belonged there.
Yulian glanced back at the remaining soldiers and spoke in a low voice.
"If you run now, you can live."
With those words, he turned his horse and rode away, showing no further interest in the soldiers.
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
Simultaneously, the cavalry stationed behind began to charge once more.
The Artrode forces, already paralyzed with fear and their formation shattered, would be utterly swept away once the cavalry reached them.
"R-run!"
Someone shouted, and the soldiers scattered in all directions.
Even experienced soldiers couldn't withstand such an overwhelming display of power.
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
The cavalry ignored the fleeing soldiers and followed Yulian's lead.
There was no need to fight a single one of them. Fear had already taken root in their minds, leaving them incapable of resistance.
Yulian continued riding, guided by Dark.
"…"
He remained silent, not bothering to investigate further. There was no need—he already knew exactly what the enemy's objectives were.
As he had anticipated, the 6th Corps Commander, Count Srowk, had positioned his forces along the route of the allied reinforcements.
"Scout the area and find a place to hide."
Count Srowk intended to wait for the opportune moment. Now was the time to move cautiously.
He reviewed his strategic objectives once more.
"After striking the reinforcements, we'll seize the supply route. The Lutania forces will have no choice but to move."
This would prompt the remaining Artrode corps to converge. With the allied forces broken and the supply route under their control, victory would be assured.
"The timing needs to be perfect…"
Of course, this plan depended on each corps commander making the right decisions based on the information they received.
If small corps engaged the Lutania forces independently, they risked annihilation. Vigilance and constant movement were essential.
"This plan is feasible. It can succeed."
The other commanders were just as competent—if not more so—than himself.
So far, the plan has progressed smoothly. Minor deviations aside, the overall strategy was unfolding as intended.
As Count Srowk waited for reports from his scouts, he was interrupted.
"Enemy sighted! The enemy is approaching!"
A scout rushed in, breathless, and shouted.
Count Srowk frowned and muttered.
"An enemy? Here?"
How could the enemy be here already? The allied forces weren't supposed to be in this area.
His own forces had taken a circuitous route to avoid detection. Additionally, an infantry unit had been stationed along the way to secure their retreat.
Even if the enemy had fought through them, they couldn't have arrived so quickly.
The scout continued urgently.
"Approximately 20,000 cavalry! They're advancing at incredible speed!"
"Tch. Did they change course to intercept us? How did they know?"
Count Srowk clicked his tongue. Their numbers were overwhelming. Even if they tried to retreat, they would be relentlessly pursued.
There was no choice but to fight here.
"It's unfortunate the 5th Corps hasn't arrived yet. But it doesn't matter. Everyone, prepare for battle! Mages, deploy mana fields just in case!"
The Artrode forces quickly assumed a battle formation.
In cavalry battles, the outcome was often determined by which side could deliver a more destructive blow.
The 6th Corps had two superhumans. With their help, victory was still within reach.
Count Srowk turned to the priests.
"You two, intercept the enemy. Hold them off briefly while we flank them from both sides."
"Understood."
The priests stepped forward confidently. After all, unless this was the Lutania main army, there wouldn't be any superhumans among the enemy.
There was no reason to believe this would be any different from fighting other allied forces.
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
Soon, the enemy cavalry appeared in a cloud of dust, galloping toward them.
"They're coming! Get ready!"
At Count Srowk's command, the 6th Corps' cavalry began to spread out, preparing to attack the enemy's flanks.
Boom!
At the same time, the two priests surged forward.
They planned to disrupt the enemy's formation by breaking into their ranks. Mobility was crucial in cavalry battles.
Fwoosh!
As the two priests charged forward, their faces were full of smug confidence.
The enemy cavalry appeared to be slowing down, likely trying to avoid a flanking maneuver.
But that wasn't the only reason for their smirks.
Clop, clop, clop.
At the front of the enemy cavalry was a lone man riding toward them.
Surely he knew that there were superhumans on their side—those superhumans being the two priests leading the charge.
"Arrogant fool!"
"Does he think he's Duke Fenris?"
The priests were annoyed.
Despite being superhumans, Artrode priests had gained a reputation as "half-baked superhumans." They had suffered numerous defeats at the hands of Duke Fenris, a humiliation known across the continent.
While they were slowly rebuilding their reputation through the ongoing war, they were still underestimated.
Whenever they fought allied forces, knights often charged directly at them, believing they could handle them if they worked together.
Whoosh!
The priests channeled their energy. Black energy swirled around their bodies.
They were eager to kill this arrogant man and massacre his allies.
Only by instilling fear in the continent once again could they reclaim their former prestige.
Boom!
The two priests accelerated, their bodies shooting forward.
They quickly closed the distance to the man on horseback—Yulian.
"Die!"
With their hands engulfed in black energy, the priests reached for Yulian.
Watching their approach, Yulian finally moved.
He swung his sword diagonally.
Slice.
"Huh?"
One of the priests felt something was off. His body had stopped moving.
Puzzled, he glanced down—and his eyes widened in shock.
"What… is this?"
His body had already been sliced cleanly in two.
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